Any Way The Wind Blows
by myownsaviour
Summary: Just a collection of oneshots. Mostly fluff, and also a little smut, but I just wanted to give this kind of thing a shot! Now on No.2: Addiction.
1. Blossom

**Author's Note: So this is where I'm going to upload my oneshots when I feel like writing them. I just had this idea today (the one used in this chapter) and then I thought: "Hey, why not make a oneshot collection?" So that's what I've done. Starting with this one.**

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**Blossom**

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Frost clung to the ground as they trudged into the park. It was spring, but the weather was still bitterly cold, and Rory wondered what had possessed his boyfriend to bring him out here right now. Couldn't it wait until it was a bit warmer? No, it couldn't. Sam had claimed he wanted to bring Rory here all winter, but held off, knowing the impact of the place would be so much bigger once the blossoms were out. Of course, he hadn't told his partner about this, so Rory had been moaning all the journey about how cold it was, and how he just wanted to go home and snuggle. When the pair arrived though, Rory shut up quickly. He hadn't seen anything this beautiful in a long time. In the middle of the very small park, was a little square with a water-feature. He wandered over to it, looking in to see little red fish darting around. In truth, as picturesque as it was, nothing compared to the blossom on the trees around them. Sam held Rory close, protecting him from the cold. They were the only two people here – everyone else had decided to stay inside because of the chill – but Sam wouldn't have it any other way. He looked into Rory's eyes as he nudged him with his nose. The Irish boy blushed gently at the action. Everything was so perfect right now. A gentle breeze ran through the branches surrounding them, lifting some of the blossom away before allowing it to fall around them. Sam lifted Rory's chin up with his finger, and leant in to plant a soft kiss on the boy's lips. In that moment, life was perfect. Just him and his boyfriend in a quiet part of town.

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**I know it's short, but I just wanted to capture a brief moment, so I hope you liked it. It's nice to think I just have this place to try out new ideas and styles etc. Please let me know what you thought in the reviews.**


	2. Addiction

**Author's Note: So, this is a piece that was originally going to be its own oneshot, but I felt I wanted to put it in with this collection. It's dark, whereas most of the others here will be much lighter (I think… But, then again, you never know). So anyway, this version of the story was inspired by my addiction. Unlike the character here, my addiction is self-harm. Cutting can become addictive. Its not just a mental condition like people seem to think it is, because it is incredibly addictive. Incredibly. Anyway, this was born during one of my 'cravings'.**

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He fumbled in the drawer, his hands shaking. He needed it. His legs trembled. Where was it? Where had it gone? Did Sam hide it? No. Sam didn't know. Remember, Sam didn't know. His breath hitched in his throat, and he felt his head spinning. He needed to find it. It was desperate. Fingers were getting caught on boxes or random junk in the drawers, and his eyes skimmed over the contents, searching. Searching. Always searching. Fuck. It wasn't there. Where had it gone? He moved to the other side of the room. He needed them. His hands slipped on the handle as he opened the drawer, but he recovered quickly, pulling the drawer onto the floor. He tipped it upside down, and sat in front of the contents that were now sprawled along the concrete flooring. His hands sifted through paper, through receipts, and bills, and letters, and pens, and pencils. They had to be here somewhere. But where? He moved around in the junk that was now circling him. His eyes searching. Searching. They never stopped searching. Sweat beaded on his brow. His hand moved up to wipe it off, but only succeeded in spreading more moisture onto his forehead from his also damp palm. It had never been this bad before. He spun around, looking for the bag. Somewhere, in the paper, it had to be there. He picked all the sheets up of the floor, throwing them down again when his eyes found what they wanted. There it was. The small clear bag, with the pills inside. What was it again? Two red, one blue? Two blue, one red? It was important to get it right. He dropped the packet as he brought it closer to him, but his hands darted back out to pick it up off the floor. He opened it up, and shook the pills out onto his palm. He just needed it now. He could worry about the dosage later. He threw the pills into his mouth. His sweat was still gathered above his eyes. It didn't take long for the effects to kick in. His pupils dilated, and his breathing slowed. The world around him began to move, and as he lay there on the floor, everything just seemed so much more… Entertaining. He giggled to himself. A cold, harsh laugh. Hysterical. He heard a voice calling his name. It sounded like Sam. His eyes began to search. They were searching. They never stopped searching.

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**So there we go, I hope you liked it. **


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